Not the best idea he's had
by AnadoraBlack
Summary: [Written for MoparGirl1] Daniel Jackson and Jack O'Neill are stranded on a medieval world, and Jack gets rather quickly annoyed...


_A/N: Hello everybody! Another day, and another prompt from my lovely pen friend, MoparGirl1, who requested I write her some Daniel Jackson goodness. I slept on it, and then a scene from Merlin stood at the fore-front of my brain, and I decided it fitted just perfectly with what I'd had in mind._

_So, this is for you, my darling, and for all those Daniel-lovers out there. ;)_

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_**Disclaimer: I do not own Stargate SG-1 or any of its characters. I only own the plot of this oneshot.**_

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**Not the best idea he's had…**

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It was always like that. Their mission would start off peachy, with nothing to report at all, and then, when all seemed well, it would always superbly go to hell.

This mission wasn't different. His team had dressed up the part – having to go on the world that was, more the most part, stuck in the Middle Ages – had retrieved the SG-16 sole survivor of what had appeared to be a witch hunt, had brought him back to the Gate…and it all had fucked up from there. Pardon the expression.

Teal'c had gone through first, supporting the injured man, and Carter had gone through second. Jack, as usual, would go last, but right as Jackson stepped forward, the vortex just vanished.

And it hadn't come from their end of it…

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They'd both cursed very loudly, surprisingly enough, and while the Doctor had tried to 'fix' whatever had gone wrong, Jack had assessed their situation. They were, for the moment anyway, stuck on an alien world which still functioned like 11th century England. Which meant that, the way they were dressed, they'd pass for peasants, which meant that anyone with armour and an ounce of power could just as easily decide that they would be good archery targets.

"Daniel, come. If we stay here in the open, we're almost definitely gonna get killed."

The archaeologist turned to him. His glasses had been discarded early on, since they hadn't been invented yet on that world. It always made him look like a boy rather than a man, which was as endearing as it was annoying. "Jack, if they are trying to get through-"

"If they try to get through, they'll know where to look. Let's go back to the village. We'll be less conspicuous there."

Daniel seemed to agree with his logic, and the two took the path leading away from the Gate – which sat at the top of a cliff, like an altar of some sorts if one only looked at the flowers and offerings that the locals had left at its feet – and back towards a small farming village.

No one had questioned their presence the first time around. Daniel had announced that they came to help with the upcoming harvest, and he had read the signs correctly, for many men actually thanked them for their assistance.

Carter had had to pose as a man, though, what with her short hair, which had displeased her greatly and had put a smile on Jack's face for hours on end. That, too, had displeased her.

Now, though, he knew they'd have to explain why two of their friends had gone, a prisoner on tow. So, they'd better lay low somewhere they wouldn't be noticed.

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In retrospect, the tavern hadn't been his brightest idea. Sure, they'd be hidden in plain sight, but the fact that this whole village knew each and every one of its citizens made sure they still stuck out like a sore thumb.

Daniel wasn't happy about that. Of course.

"Stop hissing," Jack said after a couple of minutes. They'd sat against a wall, enough in the middle of it not to be too edgy-looking.

"If we are discovered, if we are _searched_," the Doctor started, eyes squinting as always when he was trying to get a point across and Jack didn't listen, "you know what will happen."

"Do you really think I view being burnt alive as a nice way to end an afternoon?" The Colonel answered, vaguely amused. Very vaguely.

A waitress then shouted at them from the bar, asking what they wanted to drink. They shared a look, then asked for ale. It'd have been strange to go to a tavern and not order any booze, after all.

"I still think we should have stayed near the Gate."

"You have your reasons. But the Gate was too exposed to my taste."

"It would have been rather _unlikely_ for a patrol of armed…knights, to pass through there right as we were waiting…" Daniel was definitely angry. That always made for the most entertaining days…

"Stop moaning, Jackson. This place isn't that bad…witch-hunting aside."

His companion still groaned.

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When the waitress came to their table to hand them their tankards of ale, Jack plastered his most jovial smile on his lips and leaned back. "Thank you so much," he said.

Daniel was seconds away from rolling his eyes, he sensed it.

The waitress – who was a busty curvy woman between two ages – leaned down to wipe at the table, and another kind of smile appeared on her lips. "Well, aren't you a handsome fella?"

Jack smiled wider. "Thank you."

She stood back up, smile turning to a smirk. "Oh, I apologize, but I was talking about your friend, here." She stared pointedly at Jackson, whose eyes turned the size of saucers.

Jack pursed his lips even as the other man blushed furiously. "Oh, th-thanks. A lot." She winked at him before walking away, and if the blush didn't fade, his smile widened. "I stand corrected: coming here was a _genius_ idea, Jack."

"_Shut up_," his friend fired back, earning himself a delighted and bashful smile in return.

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The remainder of that afternoon was spent between banter, flirtatious glances from the waitress, and a beet-red archaeologist. And there wasn't anything more infuriating, in Jack's opinion, than Daniel Jackson acting like a twelve-year-old fool who couldn't take a compliment…

That guy was just too…unaware of himself.

After all, Jack was military, and he knew that, when needs be, charm and one's body could open doors that would remain closed otherwise… Even if that sounded like prostitution, and that wasn't what he meant by that. Only that, in this instance, for example, a flirt and a smile could insure they wouldn't have to pay for their drinks.

And Daniel Jackson, with his red cheeks and idiot smile and cutesy looks…well…could he get them free drinks?

Apparently, he could.

And he could, also, earn them free seconds, and thirds.

Damn him.

Perhaps they _should_ have stayed closer to the Gate…

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_A/N: I don't know why, but each time I picture Daniel being cute, Jack is there to find it stupid. XD_


End file.
